


They're Changing

by Drazyrohk



Category: Left 4 Dead
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 22:36:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3357788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drazyrohk/pseuds/Drazyrohk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world may as well have ended. Four Survivors struggle through the dregs of what was once humanity in search of safe harbor. When an enemy shows signs of remembering it was one of them once upon a time, said Survivors must make a choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scene One: Human Beings

It was raining that day when Bill woke them, and Zoey found herself longing to curl up under the blankets again and sleep a few hours more, just in case the rain would stop or the 'zombie apocalypse' would be over when she woke again. She knew as well as the others though that she had to continue forward and hopefully reach the area where evacuations out of the city were still occurring.

Zoey pulled the hood of her jacket up as they crawled out of the safe room and into the pouring rain outside, her pistols already out and her eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of the infected.

It was hard not to think of them as just mindless zombie. She knew that once, they had been people just like she and the other Survivors were, and she knew they were just sick, but it didn't stop them from killing every single one they came across.

Francis was sticking closer to her than normal, but after the events of yesterday and their narrow escape from the Tank that had attacked them, Zoey wasn't surprised. The warmth of his body was welcoming in the bitterly cold rain, and every time they brushed against one another she was tempted not to move away.

Gunshots punctuated the darkness, the noise dulled by the rain, and the Survivors were finding it a lot harder to see. This was a problem.

"We need to get to the next safe room." Bill muttered as they gathered briefly under an awning. "If we stay out here, we're nothing but bait for the infected."

"When we get there, we should wait out the storm." Louis put in, looking up at the building tops across the street from where they stood. Zoey murmured in agreement, shivering lightly in her soaked clothing.

They pressed on shortly after, not wanting to invite trouble by lingering longer than was necessary, but Zoey wondered what the point was of even trying. Twice, Francis was attacked from behind by infected that blended in with the dreary backdrop, and Louis managed to stumble right into a Witch, resulting in a heated battle that took up much of the stamina they had left.

They hurried onwards, finding their way into a back alley that led to another safe room, able to hear the approaching horde as they moved. 

"In here!" Zoey called, hurrying into a solid looking room and crouching in a far corner. The three men came in after her, peering out the door. Louis got snagged by a Smoker and dragged back out into the rain, Bill quick to chase after him and leaving just Francis in the doorway to shoot the infected as they rushed forward. He glanced over his shoulder at Zoey, who stood to assist him, and shook his head.

"Stay put, alright?" He muttered, stepping out into the rain and grabbing the doorknob.

"What?!" Zoey bleated indignantly. "C'mon Francis, you know I'm not some damsel in distress!"

"Right now, you are. So stay put!" He growled, closing the door. She heard his shotgun firing outside, heard the shouts of Bill and Louis draw closer. A snarl escaped her throat and she moved towards the door.

"Hey!" She shouted, the sound of soft growling somewhere to her left making her stop short. She reached down in the dark and fumbled with her flashlight, not making any sudden movements. Her eyes adjusted to the dark well enough to show her two glowing points of light that belonged to the infected that had been hiding behind the door when she came in. The growling grew louder, a little higher pitched, and she flicked the flashlight on.

Near the door was a Hunter, hunched in what appeared to be a defensive position. Rain dripped from its clothing, its hands were stained and from here, she could see the blood around its mouth.

It must have eaten recently; it was only a tiny hint of hope in the fear that now raged through her. None of the Survivors were sure if the infected fed on human flesh, but since they were still living and breathing, they had to eat something. Maybe the blood was just a byproduct of this particular Hunter attacking some other hapless Survivor...

It turned its eyes to the door, dark eyes that caught the light from her flashlight in a way that caused the glow, then it looked back at her and slowly lowered its hands to the ground.

Zoey didn't lower her pistols, her breath now heaving in her chest and her legs beginning to feel weak.

"This isn't happening." She whispered, the Hunter beginning to move closer to her now. "This isn't-"

A savage growl from the Hunter silenced her, and she swallowed hard, closing her eyes.

Its quick breath was hot and reeked of blood as it leaned into her, a sound of distress escaping her throat involuntarily. If Zoey screamed, she knew the Hunter would kill her faster than her friends could rescue her.

The Hunter let out another growl, then began breathing in her scent deeply. It reached up and put a hand on her face, smearing it with blood. Its thumb dragged the side of her mouth down, its finger brushed over her cheekbone, Zoey closing her eye as it prodded at the soft skin of her eyelid. 

She had no idea what was going on, but this Hunter wasn’t trying to kill her. It took her sleeve in its free hand and jerked her arm up, pressing its hand to hers and letting out a low, warbling noise of confusion. The short claw on its thumb caught on the edge of her mouth, Zoey gasping softly and finding herself meeting its strange eyes once more.

Its gaze snapped away from her when the voices of the men reached through the door once more, the Hunter tilting its head to the side. Growling so low Zoey could feel it resonating in her chest, it gathered all its strength into its legs and leaped straight up into the air, disappearing into the black again. All sounds it made ceased, and light flooded in as Francis jerked the door open again.

His expression twisted from one of concern to a look that said ‘I told you so’, and he sighed shortly as he approached her. As he pulled her from the room, Zoey heard no further noise from the Hunter.

“You’ve got blood all over your face.” Francis said gruffly, Zoey reaching up to rub her wet sleeve against her face with a startled noise. “What happened in there?”

“The weirdest thing.” Zoey said, looking up at him. “There was a Hunter. B-but he didn’t attack me!”

“And you didn’t shoot it why?” Francis looked at her with his nose curled and lip pulled up in a sneer.

The other two men approached them while they spoke. Bill was injured, but Louis had patched him up as best he could.

“Let’s keep goin’.” Louis said. “The safe room’s not far. Whatever conversation you two are having can wait.”

Francis grunted his agreement and Zoey gave a short nod. She glanced up at the roof tops behind them as they moved, trying to catch some glimpse of the Hunter without even knowing if it was still around. 

Louis was right about the safe room, and they locked the heavy red steel door behind themselves and collapsed in various areas of the cramped space. Zoey ran her fingers through her wet, matted hair and closed her eyes with a sigh. Bill was eased onto the ground by Louis before the younger man went to see if he could get the gas camp stove nearby working, Zoey offering them all a reassuring smile.

She pulled her sweater off and began attempting to wring some of the water out of it, a soft noise escaping Bill and making her look over. 

"What happened in that room, Zoey?" He asked softly. Francis had moved to assist Louis in cooking dinner, though he looked over as the two spoke in the corner. "You're covered in blood."

Zoey's hand jumped immediately to her face where the Hunter had pressed his hand, and Bill's mouth twisted. “Like I told Francis,” she began, letting out a shaky breath, “there was a Hunter in there. But it didn’t try to attack me, it just...” Zoey shook her head, lowering her hand. “I dunno. It was like the Hunter was... curious or something. It put its hand on my face-”

“Why didn’t you shoot the Hunter when you saw it, Zoey?” Bill interrupted, sitting up a little straighter. Louis and Francis were both turned towards them now, the former looking concerned while the latter simply scowled.

"I dunno." Zoey repeated, huffing out a sigh. “It was too close to me. I guess I panicked.”

“You’ve dealt with enough of the infected, that shouldn’t have happened.” Bill reached into his pocket to pull out his cigarettes, raising his eyebrow at her expectantly. “You’re still alive, and that’s the important thing. You sure it was a Hunter?”

“There was no mistaking it. Those eyes...” Zoey said, trailing off and lowering her gaze. She rubbed absent-mindedly at her face with her wet sleeve again, Bill leaning forward to assist her in cleaning off the last of the blood. “Bill?”

“Yeah kiddo?” The older man muttered.

“I think it remembered it was human once.” Zoey said, cheeks coloring. “It was touching my face, it put its hand to mine.” 

“Like in Tarzan? The Disney one?” Louis asked, making a noise of triumph as he got the stove lit. 

Zoey laughed softly and nodded. “Yeah. Sort of like that, Louis. If it wanted to kill me, that Hunter could have pounced before ever announcing it was there. But it didn’t.”

Bill put his hand gently on her shoulder, drawing her attention. "You're a bleeding heart, Zoey. You still remember more than most of us that these people are just sick. But you can't let your guard down just because they show signs of starting to change. We don't have a cure for this yet, and next time that Hunter might pounce you as quick as it would the rest of us. You got that?" He said firmly, Zoey frowning at him but nodding again. 

Bill was probably right. Bill was usually right.

Bill was on first watch that night, a decision based on the fact that he was waiting for the pain pills he had taken for his injury to kick in before he could even think about sleep. He regarded the others as they lay curled beneath blankets and jackets, all of them uncomfortable in their still damp clothes but exhausted enough to still find sleep.

He could hear the muttering of the infected outside the safe room, every so often hearing the shuffling gait of a Smoker or the thundering footsteps of a Boomer somewhere amongst them. There was no growling or roaring, no keening cries of anguish, so the worst of what waited out there for them wasn't anywhere nearby. It was a comforting thought.

Standing to shake the stiffness out of his bones, Bill wandered to one of the windows and peered out into the still falling rain. He could see shapes moving vaguely in the distance, the lopsided form and cancer ridden face of a Smoker peering over at him from a building nearby. It gave a spluttering cry and disappeared from view, Bill making a mental note to warn the others about it later.

Zoey was thrashing a little in her sleep, her breathing irregular. Francis stirred and rolled over, his arm falling across her, and she settled a little and fell into a more normal sleep. Bill's mouth turned down.

She was just a kid. A rich kid getting caught up in things that kids weren’t supposed to be. Hell, all three of his companions were just kids, and none of them had fought a war before. People said apocalypse, but it was as much a war as the ones he won stars fighting in. 

The sound of wet, shuffling footsteps outside drew his attention to the window again, and Bill looked out. He found himself meeting a pair of dark eyes peering from behind a nearby car, his heart beginning to pound a little faster.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.” The older man grumbled, getting to his feet.

The Hunter crawled cautiously forward when he didn't raise his weapon, tilting its hooded face to one side so that Bill could see it in the light shining from a street lamp nearby. Sharp teeth were bared in a what looked like a submissive grin, and it held one clawed hand off the ground as it crouched in front of the safe room. A soft growl rumbled from deep in its chest.

"Just like a damn dog. A damn stray dog." Bill muttered, mouth twisting. "Shoo! Go on, get out of here. Don't make me shoot you."

Part of him wondered if he should just shoot the Hunter, put it out of its misery. It would make things at once easier and harder, because he knew Zoey would never understand if she found out. Another part of him screamed to just do it, knowing that this was definitely going to come back to bite him in the ass.

The Hunter let out another growl, this one louder and closer to the surface, then leaped easily out of view. Bill released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

Something told him this was going to become more of a problem than they needed, but Zoey may have been right. There was definitely something different about this Hunter.


	2. It Begins

It was still raining in the morning without any sign that it would let up. They roused themselves slowly, their expressions clearly showing they all had the same thought. It would be easier to remain here till the rain stopped, but also more dangerous. They had to press on.

"Saw a Smoker out here earlier, keep on your toes people." Bill muttered, Louis' eyes immediately going to the roof tops and Francis turning to walk backwards so he could keep an eye out behind them as well.

Zoey had her pistols out, her hood pulled up over her head in a feeble attempt to ward off the still pouring rain, and Bill saw the dark circles standing out more pronounced around her blue eyes. His mouth turned down.

As they moved on through the dim, wet mess of a morning, peppering the relative silence with bursts of gunfire, the sound of growling kept haunting their steps. Several times Bill could swear he saw a dark shape fly gracefully through the air to the side of them. He hoped that Hunter wasn't stupid enough to continue following them, pressing Zoey closer to the center of their group to protect her in case the thing had changed its mind about attacking the youngest Survivor.

"Smoker!" Zoey suddenly shouted, all guns swivelling in the direction she pointed in time to see the lingering smoke trail disappear over the side of the roof again. "Damn… those things are too smart for their own good."

"That's bad news for us, let's keep moving." Bill replied, urging the others forward. They were more on alert now, knowing the Smoker was so close. It had made itself good and scarce, but that didn’t mean it was gone.

The next stretch of road was littered with infected that rushed towards them upon seeing the Survivor’s flashlights and their faster movement, but lessers were easy enough to pick off without them being able to deal too much damage.

Zoey could still feel the bruises from their many encounters with such swarms, but she was a better shot now than she had been and could avoid getting more.

Louis had backed up near an open door, picking infected off while standing behind it and screaming curses. Something came out of the door he stood by, Louis looking up in surprise at the towering figure. His eyes widened in horror when he saw it was the same Smoker that had been tracking them. Up close, the skin on the Smoker's face was grey and leathery, the tumors that covered half of it obscuring its eye and giving it a deformed look.

The Smoker looked as surprised to see Louis as he was to see it, but it recovered more quickly than Louis could and raised one clawed hand to strike. Louis let out a cry of alarm and turned his face away with eyes closed, a hand closing on the back of his shirt and tugging him backwards so the claws only grazed his gun arm, opening the flesh up regardless and making blood blossom over the once white fabric. He stumbled backwards, the same hand that had tugged him now steadying him. Louis looked over and met Bill’s stern face, watching the oldest member of their group gun down the Smoker before it could do anymore damage. 

"Stick. TOGETHER." Bill growled over the sound of the gun chatter around them. 

Louis nodded, making his way with the old man through the smoke to join the others. The rest of the infected had been taken care of and as a group they headed towards some buildings to look for shelter.

They all stopped just inside an empty warehouse, Zoey forcing Louis to sit down to patch up his arm with something from her med-kit. They all took a moment to catch their breath.

 

 

He watched them all fighting, watched them move into the empty warehouse to recover before moving on. The scent of blood sure to attract unwanted attention. Crouching on the highest point of a roof nearby, he strained his eyes to see through the rain. A bubbling growl escaped him.

He had been too slow to stop the long tongued monster from chasing them, caught up in feeding himself, and he was lucky that no more damage had been done to the group.

The monster had damaged one, but had been put down. No need for him to kill it with his bare hands now.

He slid down to the edge of the roof and used his momentum to push off and carry him through the air to the adjacent roof. His eyes caught sight of another like him leaping down from the back of a big truck crashed nearby.

They locked dark gazes, he held the others attention for a moment before its eyes narrowed. He slowly crouched.

There was an unspoken communication between them. The other wanted to take the group inside the building for food. He wanted to protect them, wanted to understand them, and he was willing to fight to do so. Too many others like the group inside had fallen to the monsters. 

He coiled the muscles of his legs like springs and shrieked a challenge as he launched himself off the roof at the monster waiting below.

 

The shriek brought the Survivors immediately to their guard, all of them turning to the door with weapons raised. The answering cry from closer to the ground made them all pause and cast uneasy and confused glances at one another.

Bill reached out to close the door while keeping his weapon raised with one hand, and the sounds from outside became muffled.

Screaming, snarling and yelping sounded through the door, and after a few seconds a heavy weight crashed against it, splintering the wood so that they could see what was happening outside.

A Hunter backed into their view, holding its arm lamely and growling with fury. Its dark eyes fixed on a second Hunter that pounced into view. The two grappled for a moment, the lame one using the power of his legs to push the other into a roll where they fought for control. When the second threw the lame one off, they both rolled to their feet and crouched, beginning to circle.

Both of them were covered in blood, more of it washing onto the ground as they moved. The source of most of it seemed to be a deep wound in the back of the second Hunter's calf. Their chests heaving, neither one looked ready to yield.

Francis raised his gun, but Bill gently put his hand on the barrel and lowered it again, shaking his head.

"Just wait. There's a good chance they'll finish one another off." He said quietly, not wanting his voice to disturb the creatures battling outside.

"What's gotten into them? I've never seen them fight like this before." Louis breathed from behind him, peering past Bill's elbow to see what was going on. Zoey was still and silent, her hands clutched, white-knuckled on her gun as she stared.

The lame Hunter was now letting out small whimpers along with the growls, its face torn open in addition to many of the other wounds the second had inflicted. As they circled one another once more, the second Hunter launched itself forward too fast to predict, flattening the lame Hunter to the ground and sinking sharp teeth into its neck. The whimpers turned to yelps, then turned to wet, bubbling gasps. There was an audible crack of bone and the first Hunter lay silent and limp on the ground.

The still living Hunter straightened slowly, arching his back and throwing his head back to howl his victory to the heavens before turning his eyes to the door where the Survivors stood. His terrible gaze swept over them, gradually softening into something more curious.

He didn't stay long after that, leaping away easily even with his leg ripped open the way it was. Francis poked his head out the door to see where the Hunter might have gone, Louis sat back with a sigh of relief, but Zoey couldn't take her eyes off the corpse of the Hunter laying sprawled on the wet ground nearby. Its neck was a ruin of flesh and blood, and blood spread all around it in a gory pool. Dark eyes stared up at the sky, unseeing and unblinking.

Bill stepped out to inspect the fallen infected, glancing over his shoulder at the rest of the group. “It ain’t him.” He said gruffly, shouldering his gun. “But the other might’ve been.”

"God, what is going on?" Zoey asked in a high voice. 

“What IS going on?” Francis looked at her with a frown, then glanced at Bill. “You’re not tellin’ me that’s the same damn Hunter from yesterday!”

“So, Tarzan’s what, our evil, sick Guardian Angel now?” Louis said from his seat.

“Zoey was right.” Bill muttered, looking at the girl. She looked back with wide eyes, gripping her gun a little more tightly.

“About what?” Francis asked. 

Bill's words chilled Zoey straight through, more than any rain could, even more than the cries of the infected could. He spoke frankly, he spoke simply. He only said two words, but they were powerful words that made her stomach turn.

"They're changing."

 

 

He managed to escape into a nearby empty building, collapsing into a heap in the middle of a room free of monsters. His clothing torn to rags, he breathed the heavy breath of exhaustion. He had the foul taste of blood in his mouth, and he was in more pain than he could ever remember being in before.

He curled in on himself and reached up to clutch his leg in both hands, letting out a stifled sound of agony. His clawed fingers probed into the wound. Feeling how deeply it cut into his flesh, his heart began to pound and he realized how quickly he needed to seal it.

If he continued to lose blood like this, he was going to die. And if he died, he wouldn't be able to keep them safe.

Hissing furiously, he once more rolled to his feet and limped back out of the building, scaling a truck nearby to look around. There was a store he recalled, one that he had gone to before when his clothing needed patching or he had a wound that needed closing. There were better ways to seal a wound or fix a broken sweater, but there were no faster ways that he knew of that didn't involve fire or stealing new clothes.

Scurrying down the street as quickly as he could, he located the store he had remembered from before and began rifling through all the objects that were strewn on the ground. He was feeling a little light headed, but he figured that was from the blood loss and too much moving around. The adhesive he had been searching for was plentiful here, and his sharp claws and teeth made quick work of the package surrounding it. He wrapped great strips of the thick, silvery-grey adhesive around his injured leg, hoping that it would work.

He needed to heal as quickly as he could. There was too much to lose and he couldn't afford to let them get too far ahead, especially with two of their own being injured. He had to keep the monsters from trailing the scent of blood, the irregular rhythm of their breathing and their footsteps. He had no doubt their judgement would be impaired by exhaustion at this point.

The adhesive made his leg stiff and effectively crippled him, so he hid himself in a small closet to rest and wait for the next day to continue tracking. There was no use wandering out there if he was in no shape to.

After all, to the monsters, injured meant ‘food’. He knew they didn't have the same standards as he did when it came to eating.

Pain kept him awake for some time. He lay whimpering in the darkness, curled into a tiny ball, but soon he grew so exhausted that sleep couldn't keep him away any longer. His eyes fluttered closed and he drifted off restlessly in the dark corner of his closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was REALLY hard to rework. I removed entire chunks of it to make it usable! I hope you guys enjoy.


	3. Chapter 3

"The hospital is close now." Bill's voice was curiously muffled by the hood she still had pulled up over her head, and Zoey turned her head to look at him, to hear him better. "We might be able to find a safe room with a proper bathroom in it so we can all get ourselves cleaned up. The last of our rations should keep us going until we find more, but it should be priority in the morning."

"There are an awful lot of buildings around here, no reason there shouldn't be a bathroom in them." Louis replied, Zoey smiling and nodding in agreement. "Even if we find one and just keep the zombies at bay long enough to wash up a bit, that would work for me."

"A safe room would also be nice. I'm wearing down fast." Zoey's voice sounded a little far away, which was something she almost understood. The past few days felt like she had been standing back watching herself, the feeling uncomfortable and confusing.

Her thoughts drifted back to the Hunter, his wounded leg, his swift escape, a part of her hoping that he was out there somewhere and alright. She didn't know if the Infected, even the smart ones, knew how to bandage their own wounds, so there was a chance the poor thing would bleed out. Just... lay down and die somewhere.

Her stomach twisted uncomfortably, Bill's hand once again finding her arm and bringing her back to the here and now. His eyes searched her face as he continued speaking, pulling her up a flight of stairs they had stopped near.

"We must be close now, and there are less of the infected roaming this part of the city. That doesn't mean we can linger too long, but a small rest might do us all some good. There's a room up here that's easily defended, from the looks of it, so we can pause for a bit."

"What for?" Francis growled, looking over his shoulder and up at the roof tops. Ever since they had witnessed the fight between the Hunters, he had been incredibly twitchy. "We got lots of ammo, we should keep pushing till we get to the safe room."

"What for?" Bill turned to face Francis, a grimace twisting it. "We're soaking wet, Zoey's tired, Louis and I are both hurt still and I need a damn cigarette, that's what for. If you don't wanna stop, feel free to go on ahead. If you don't feel like dying, keep watch and keep your damn mouth shut, Francis!"

It was a typical fight between the two of them, but with the blazing heat in Bill's words this time, Francis didn't even have a come back. Turning his back to the room at the top of the stairs and grumbling to himself, he kept watch for the elusive Hunter or any other Infected that made the mistake of straying close.

Zoey sat down in an abandoned office chair that didn't look too beat up, every part of her protesting. She let her eyes flutter closed and breathed a sigh of relief. There was a small bathroom inside, just a sink and a toilet, but it was enough that they could all take turns using it. Zoey would have given anything to wash her hair or have a proper shower, but luxuries like that didn't exist in this world anymore. Not here, at least.

Bill finished washing up in the bathroom and called to her, so she opened her eyes, stretched and reluctantly relinquished the chair she had been sitting in to go to him, offering him a curious look.

"I think, if we learned anything at all today about that little Hunter, it's that his instincts are still the same. He killed that other Hunter without mercy, relentless in his attack. Even when he was injured, he fought when he could have easily run and let us take care of it." Bill murmured, lighting a cigarette.

Zoey rested her hips against the sink, arching an eyebrow at him as he spoke. Somewhere along the line, she realized they had stopped referring to the Hunter as ‘it.’

"This is Darwin's ultimate test, Bill. Survival of the fittest. I think our Hunter knows that and I think he kept fighting and eventually killed that other Hunter to show that HE is the fittest and therefore the most qualified to survive. They're like…" She paused, almost not wanting to say it. "They're like animals. Like wolves, or big cats. If they encounter each other, sure it might be easier to work as a pair, but one of them has to be the alpha."

"So our Hunter's trying to prove he's the alpha? He's not in very good shape, you could see it. If he's still out there, there's a good chance he's not going to be alive much longer unless he gets help. And I'll be damned if I leave anyone with even a glimmer of a chance of being cured behind. That little bastard is different, there's no disguising it." Bill scratched at his beard, his gaze shifting to the mirror over Zoey's shoulder. He sighed gently and tapped ashes from his cigarette.

"So, what's the plan then? We press forward and wait to see if he shows?" Louis asked from outside. 

"And if he doesn't, we go back for him. I think the only reason he ran is because Francis would have shot him if he stayed there a second longer." Zoey replied, tilting her head to the side.

“Damn right I woulda.” Francis grunted. “And I can’t believe you’re talkin’ about going back for a vampire.”

“Bill's training's hard to ignore sometimes." Louis shrugged. “Leave no man behind and all that?"

“This is taking it a little to the extreme, don't you think?" Francis scowled his best scowl at them, the other three exchanging glances. 

“You never know." Bill huffed, smoke curling around his head. “That could be the last we'll ever see of him."

 

 

He woke in pain, feeling stiff and uncomfortable, one hand immediately jumping to his wounded leg to see if it was still bleeding.

The adhesive had held, but taking it off would be unwise. He pulled his pantleg down over it and shuffled to his feet to stretch, moving around to test it. It was still incredibly sore, the pain having dulled to an ache that couldn't be ignored instead of a blazing, screaming agony. The adhesive made it too stiff to move as quickly as he would have liked.

Still, he had to move on. Even food could wait until he caught up to the others, until he was sure he hadn't fallen too far behind. The resolve that burned within him drove him to leap quickly from the building he had taken refuge in that night.

The rain had let up, coming to merely a drizzle, but the air was still cold enough to make his breath show. It felt good on his leg, giving him a small comfort. He tested himself by leaping to the next roof over, a clumsy landing due to the stiffness of his wound jarring his entire body with a fresh burst of pain.

If it hadn't been for the adhesive, he was sure he would be bleeding all over the place again.

Pulling himself back up, he leapt to the next building and paused at the edge of it, breathing in deeply. Spoiled food, vomit and something stronger. Something the monsters found enticing. He knew it was best to stay away. He could also smell something familiar and almost sweet. The things one of them always had in his mouth made smoke... there was something comforting about it. They had probably stopped to rest.

He continued on in the same direction… they couldn't be far now.

 

The Survivors paused to ransack an already looted grocery store, staying away from perishables but managing to find many boxes and cans of things to tide them over till they were rescued. Bill gathered they had only another few hours before they reached the hospital, but the roads ahead were so packed with Infected, they were going to have to try and find another way to get there.

When he suggested the sewers, Zoey's first thought was of how absolutely disgusting that idea was, but she soon realized they might not have a choice. Besides, it was no worse than being blown up on or thrown up on by a Boomer as they had taken to calling the massive, bloated infected.

At least the smell of shit would come out of her clothes. She wasn't sure the bile ever would.

The thought of it wasn't enough to put her off her food, however, and she ate just as much as the boys did when they stopped again to rest. Bill's leg was giving him trouble, and there was suspicion that Louis' arm was infected. Luckily for them, the pharmacy at the store had been carrying antibiotics. They took enough for themselves and left the rest behind in case other Survivors passed through. 

"Booze!" Francis chirped happily, picking a bottle up off a shelf and stuffing it into his pack. 

Bill muttered about beer being too cumbersome and taking up too much room, deciding instead to take along a bottle of brandy he had found on one of the shelves. Francis was grabbing anything he could get his hands on. Louis quietly reminded him that he didn't need and couldn't carry all of it with him, and the biker was forced to choose only a few.

"Hey, will this work as an antiseptic?" Zoey held up a bottle of vodka. Bill shrugged, cigarette smoke curling lazily about his head.

"Better than nothin'." He muttered, Zoey moving to where Louis was leaning against the checkout.

"Sorry ma'am, I'm going to have to see some ID." Louis said seriously, offering them a chance to laugh. Laughter was hard to come by these days, and the banter and joking they had all exchanged regularly seemed to have happened so long ago.

Zoey wondered if it was because of the changes they were seeing, wondered if perhaps this infection was beating even their spirits down. Perhaps it was the anticipation of rescue…

She opened the bottle of vodka and took the bandages off of Louis' arm, giving him a sympathetic look before pouring some of the strong smelling liquid over the wound. Louis gripped the counter hard as she took a clean cloth from her medkit and swabbed the wound as best she could, hissing softly through clenched teeth and squeezing his eyes shut.

She kept murmuring apologies, he kept reassuring her it was alright.

"We might be able to find some proper stuff at the hospital. Can you hold on till then?" Zoey asked, and Louis let out a peel of laughter.

"Zoey, I'm not gonna die on you. I feel fine… thanks." He patted her on the shoulder and she flushed.

When the task was finally complete, they regrouped and headed out again, careful to avoid a car that had a light blinking on the dash.

There was no need to set off a car alarm and draw in the horde, not when they were doing so well.

 

The monsters seemed to sense that he was injured. Never had he had to kill so many of them walking from one end of the street to the other. Not even the ones who saw their brothers and sisters fall beneath his claws had the sense to back off, throwing themselves at him and flailing with arms and legs until he broke their necks, caved their heads in or tore their throats out.

Twice, he was bitten, actually BITTEN by them, and those that dared fell in worse ways than the others. The ones that dared, he left torn apart on the street, a mass of organs and disease and blood.

Feeling frustrated, hurt and angry, he made his way as quickly as he could in the direction the group had gone in, hoping not to lose them as they ducked in and out of buildings. They lingered in one for some time, conversed and gathered supplies, and by the time they came out he had climbed onto the roof for a better view.

The girl was looking for him. He saw her glance over her shoulder at the shadows between buildings, saw her searching the faces of the monsters for some sign. He waited until she turned away, slipped down to a lower roof and scrambled to the edge to see what direction they were headed before descending to the street again. Without his ability to make long jumps, he resorted to running after them. While he couldn't move as quickly that way, it was better than risking his leg or his life.

There was also a greater risk of being seen, but something told him that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing anymore.

He trusted she wouldn't let them shoot him.

There was a warbling cry, then a monster flung itself at him from the left, swinging at him uselessly as he ducked out of the way. The monster smashed its arm through the window of the car he had been crouched behind, the air suddenly filled with the high pitched alarm that came from these vehicles from time to time. There was a shrieking and howling of monsters coming from nearby.

His eyes widened in horror, his legs carrying him as quickly as they could towards the building the group had disappeared into.

He was in no shape to fight, and the monsters approaching were his fault… he had no choice but to fight with the group now. He had to protect them. He couldn’t let it end the same way as last time.

 

Francis spun with his gun up when the car alarm started screaming, the other three letting out cries of annoyance and frustration while searching for the reason behind it. The horde was approaching fast, Francis quick to pick off the closer Infected that came tearing at them. There was the usual bobbing and weaving as they tried to anticipate the shots and avoid them, but all of them ended up falling to his gun.

All except one.

Just as Francis swivelled the gun to aim at the hooded infected, it dropped into a crouch and leapt right over their heads, Louis and Bill turning to get a bead on it. Zoey grabbed Francis’ arm to stop him as the Hunter ducked behind a nearby van. Their eyes met and the biker made a disgruntled noise at the back of his throat before turning back to the horde.

"I hate vampires!" Francis shouted, his gun spitting fire and metal again and again as the horde got closer, the others turning to open fire as well. 

There was a look of relief in Zoey's eyes, Bill sighing shortly before lowering his gun and unhooking a bomb from his belt. He activated it, throwing it as hard as he could towards the still screaming car alarm.

"Make yourselves scarce, people." He growled, the other survivors shooting as they backed away from the horde that was now distracted by the beeping bomb. "We can outrun them if we head inside. Close the doors behind you!"

As they rushed forward again, still firing at the infected that pursued them, Zoey glanced at the Hunter crouched behind the van. He was watching her with a pleading look on his face, and she offered beckoned him with one hand.

"C'mon!" She shouted, the Hunter starting forward almost immediately.

"Are you NUTS?! You know what that is!" Francis bellowed, smashing an infected in the face with his gun and looking at Zoey like she was an alien.

"Yes, it's the guy that saved our lives yesterday. He's coming with us!"

"That's a freaking Hunter!" Francis cried in return, Bill taking his arm in a tight grip.

"We already discussed this! We ain't leaving him behind, Francis!" The old man snarled over the screaming horde outside the now closed door.

They gazed at each other for a long moment in silence, Francis' eyes shifting to the quivering figure of the Hunter crouched in the corner, then back to Bill, then he let out a disgusted noise and shrugged Bill's hand off.

"I think this is a bad idea." He grumbled, moving with them as they hurried into the next room and shut the door behind them.

 

It must have been pure luck that they found the safe room when they did, the cherry red door sending waves of relief through them. When they closed themselves in and locked the door behind them, Francis and Bill spent some time using the ammo on the table in there to pick off the lingering remains of the horde that clawed at the door in an attempt to reach them.

Zoey and Louis immediately converged on the Hunter, who was cowering in a corner, Zoey trying to coax him out with gentle words while Louis prepared a medkit and some pain pills.

"We're trying to help you. C'mon… it's alright." Zoey was saying, Francis letting out a groan and putting his hand over his eyes.

The Hunter attempted to bite Louis when the man got close and actually succeeded in tearing off his tie with wickedly sharp claws, causing Louis to keep his distance. As Zoey had suspected, the Infected was more like an animal now than a human, and despite his wish to assist them, he obviously didn’t want to be touched.

"We're not getting anywhere… and he's making an awful lot of racket, Zoey." Louis said quietly to her. Bill stomped over to them, catching both the humans AND the Hunter by surprise when he grabbed ahold of the Infected's hoodie and dragged him onto the floor, where he landed on his back.

The Hunter howled in displeasure, but before he could make any sort of attempt at attacking Bill, Louis held his arms down and Zoey pounced on him, sitting on his chest and stomach so that she could get at his injured leg without him kicking her off of him.

"Just stay still! We're trying to help you, damn it!" She shouted, the sound over her voice seeming to incense him. He quieted down and remained still for a moment, though he was still tense and quivering, and Zoey looked over her shoulder at Bill.

"Let me borrow your knife… I have to cut this duct tape off, he's got it all over his leg." She sounded slightly irritated, but Bill didn't blame her. Getting that stuff off was going to hurt the Hunter, and possibly make the wound on his leg worse…

He supposed this indeed answered the question of whether or not they knew how to fix themselves up after a fight, and he pulled the knife from his belt, handing it to Zoey without another word.

"I'm really sorry…" Zoey murmured to the now squirming Hunter. "This is REALLY gonna hurt…"

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to revise and revisit this story after reading through it a couple days ago. I love the fandom, and I love the whole horror genre, but there were a lot of things I wanted to fix and change. For those of you who may have read the original fanfic on fanfiction.net, I hope you like this new take on an older story! For those of you that are new, I hope you will stay for the entire ride!


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